


Routine Encounter

by nartes



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Ambiguous Age, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Gang Rape, Grooming, M/M, Multi, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Rape/Non-con Elements, References to Drugs, The rape stuff is described abstractly idk, Underage Drug Use, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:08:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24096358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nartes/pseuds/nartes
Summary: Leo has some fun. Or rather, others have fun with him first.
Relationships: Leo Manfred/Original Male Character(s), Leo Manfred/Other(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	Routine Encounter

“Your hair’s getting long. You should cut it soon.”

Leo’s mum lets the greasy hair flow through her slim fingers before rubbing them against her jeans. She always does this. Pointing out every flaw of his. The dirty brown hair isn’t even that long, stopping halfway down his neck. She carelessly sets the bowl of pasta down in front of him with a thump before sitting opposite with her own meal. He grabs his fork and angrily stabs at the pieces, shovelling them into his mouth so that he can keep himself quiet. 

“And you’re always out so late, what are you even doing out there? It’s not like you have any friends.” A small blob of pasta lands on his cheek, having flown from her mouth. He wipes it off.

“I have friends,” he mutters, barely audible with the food in his mouth. He won’t elaborate though. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. 

“Mhmm, right.” 

The rest of the meal is finished in silence. Leo quietly takes both bowls without thanks to the kitchen and washes up, allowing his mom to step out onto the balcony for a little date between her and a bottle of wine. 

He checks the time. 8 pm. They’ll be expecting him in an hour, but he’s always let go to return home by 11. After killing 30 minutes by watching TV, he slips out, taking the house keys with him and leaving his mom placated on the couch. 

It’s cold outside and he subconsciously tightens his coat, shoving his hands under his armpits. His sneakers splash water out from the puddles, walking at a brisk pace to the usual place they meet outside of. The journey gives him time to get into the right headset, reminding himself that what he’s doing is necessary for everyone. That it’s going to be fun. He wants it. Needs it.

Waiting outside the bar, leaning against the brick wall, he stamps his feet and blows onto his hands to ward off the cold. He looks too young to go in. He is too young. The chill tries to slip through his clothes but he knows he’ll be warmed up soon. 

They arrive in a pack, a gang, a mob. Always on time, like clockwork. “Back again for more, huh?” The man at the centre of the group raises his hand in greeting, bringing it down onto Leo’s shoulder once they’re close enough. They both know the answer, the silent agreement.

He’s used to this. This is how the story goes. The first time they came it was just the leader, spotting him walking alone. Before Leo knew what was happening he was shoved against the brickwork, almost knocking him out, with hands roaming his body. He didn’t understand what was going on; what was about to happen. Afterwards, the man kissed him on the cheek. A goodbye and a promise to come back. 

And back he came, with more and more people joining each time. 

Leo never told anyone about it. He couldn’t. He wasn’t technically afraid of the man, of what he could do if he found out Leo snitched. Oh no. He was afraid of how people would react, of how they would see him as dirty and weak. Besides, he didn’t even want anyone else to know. He liked this secret. 

Tonight they waste no time in splitting up, half the group crowding Leo as they head down an alley, the rest forming a blockade. 

“Y’know, kid, if it weren’t for your stubble, I’d have mistaken you for a whore.” This quip from some guy triggers a few chuckles. “As if you ain’t already one!”

Leo only notices that his coat is on the ground when his beanie joins it, foreign fingers threading their way through his exposed hair as the mob crowd around him. He hates this part most, eyes closing on instinct. Hot breath blows down his neck making him shiver and earning more laughter. It was just a game to them.

Too many body parts are pressing up against him, their heat most certainly warming him up. All he can do is try his hardest to relax, let himself be held up by the others. His mind tends to fog up at this point, amplifying the pain and pleasure in order to dismiss the discomfort that tickles the back of his mind. He feels like fleeing or fighting but ends up freezing instead, pushing all inconvenient feelings away. Acting out will only cause trouble and make things worse.

As the hands get rougher he expects to feel the pain ramp up, but instead, he can just about tolerate it. It’s similar to when he uses, all the bumps and scrapes he gets only registering after the comedown. Everything starts feeling hot, uncomfortable, and sticky. The whispers and mutters and taunts and groans cloud his thoughts, disorientating him. Complicated feelings within bubble up, almost breaching the surface, before Leo’s body thuds onto the concrete. It takes him a moment to realise it’s over, zippers zipping and people leaving. 

“I’m not- I’m not feeling so good...” He makes sure the whine in his voice is pronounced, not that he has to try much.He knows it pleases them.

“Aw, don’t worry little one. We’ve got your fix.” 

A little baggie filled with red crystals is chucked onto his lap. “Catch you later!” is called out from the gang as they depart, leaving Leo slumped against the wall. He sniffs several times, hands rubbing his face, trying to snap back to reality. His crotch hurts, crying for attention, ending up ignored. An ache, a heavy, empty feeling, slowly starts to spread through him. He knows what he should expect, should have gotten used to it by now, but every time he ends up feeling off. Just not right. As if the world was pulled out from under him like a rug, nothing there to neither catch nor support him. 

Gradually pulling his clothes back on takes more effort than usual, but soon he’s on his feet again and walking home. His phone screen informs him of the time, of how long he was out and how long he has left. He should be able to sneak in a quick shower to wash everything away. To be clean again. But first, his treat. He earned it.

The swing rocks under his weight as he sits. The park is typically deserted at this hour, offering Leo some privacy as he opens up his kit that lives hidden in the nearby bushes. The amount of ice he received this time isn’t as much as usual but he wouldn’t dare complain. Instead, he knows to get the full effect he needs to shoot up, pouring some onto the spoon before lighting up below it. Once it’s melted enough, he uses the syringe to pull it up before injecting what he saw as liquid gold directly into his veins. 

This, to Leo, was what made it all worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this in my notes since 2018 so it's a relief to finally get this out into the world. Thanks for reading/getting this far and I hope you have a good day :)


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